


as if you've seen a ghost

by jade304



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 06:04:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18654424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jade304/pseuds/jade304
Summary: “If I may be so bold, Lady Lunafreya, may I have this dance?”The night before the treaty signing.





	as if you've seen a ghost

Luna admits she feels a bit out of place at these formal events – such things were rare in Tenebrae, and it was mostly Ravus who was paraded around the Niflheim events, and she sees him meandering throughout the crowd. The reception is grand; a formal party, held on the rooftop of one of the tallest buildings in the city, attended by both the Insomnian and Niflheim elite. The past week has been a rush of travel around the city, following in the footsteps of her brother, the chancellor, and the emperor, but it all comes to a head after tonight’s event. She feels anxiety grow as the night wears on.

She stands mostly and surprisingly alone; it’s a little strange to be in a public space and go unnoticed, but she supposes that there isn’t much need for an oracle’s healing inside the crystal’s wall. The Insomnian citizens gathered around are mostly affiliated somehow with the crown, anyway – no doubt that only the highest places would be permitted into an event with both leaders of the world’s most powerful nations. Still, she’s only received a few passing comments from people that she’s met previously in the week, and mostly stands alone. The king has caught her eye a few times; he worries about her, she can tell, but she can handle her own self. And there’s the member of the Glaive that she’s spoken to. Luna reaches back to feel the hairpin that she’s clipped into her updo. Sacrifices, she thinks, unsure if she’s comfortable with their circumstances. At least he seems to be doing all right; of course, the glaive would be, considering he’s technically at work, but Luna is perceptive. 

She looks out over the edge of the balcony; the lights of the city as well as the shimmering light of the Wall high above her head creates one shimmering curtain of light in front of her vision. While she’s grateful he’s safe, she wonders what it would be like if Noctis were here. She remembers him saying something about him not being good with parties, but she can’t help but imagine; the two of them, sitting here talking, Noctis in a formal suit, her in her gown…

It’s silly to get caught up in it, but she’s lost in her daydream when she feels a hand brush her shoulder.

“Lost in thought, are we, Lady Lunafreya?”

Luna turns around at the familiar voice; she’s never met the man in person, but she would be a fool not to recognize the imperial chancellor. 

“Good evening, chancellor,” she says with a small curtsy. He smiles at her.

“Please, do call me Ardyn.”

Odd familiarity, but very well. “Ardyn. I hope your evening goes well.”

“Splendidly,” Ardyn says. He dumps an empty champagne flute on a waiter’s passing tray. He walks around Luna to lean out over the balcony. Luna looks at his outfit; she’s always wondered why he dresses so out of place, several layers thick around him even though it must be much warmer here in the city than in Niflheim. While the other visiting Niflheim dignitaries dress themselves in the empire’s white and red, the chancellor is clad in a mix of patterns, but the color palette reminds her more of the Lucian black  worn by the king and his  council . He inhales deeply.

“Ah, such a _marvelous_ city that Lucis has built,” He says, but his eyes hold distaste. He looks incredibly out of place, dressed in black against the city skyline; he looks almost as if he’s trapped in-between something, but Luna cannot place what it is. He turns to look at her. “What a pity you can’t share this evening with your beloved Prince Noctis, mm?”

She  shrugs, and he gives a small chuckle. The musicians on the floor below them have switched the slightly-melancholy violin for a more upbeat sounding melody. The chancellor holds out his hand.

“If I may be so bold, Lady Lunafreya, may I have this dance?”

Luna looks around; they wouldn’t be the  _only_ ones dancing, and no one is paying them any mind, but it’s still a strange request. She catches Ravus in the crowd; though he’s passed by her a few times this night, he isn’t paying any attention to them now. A little reluctantly, she takes his hand. “Of course...Ardyn.”

He laughs, again, like her saying his name is the funniest thing he’s heard all evening. He takes her hand and gathers it in his own, one of his hands coming to settle at her waist; they’re ice cold. 

They fall into step with the music;  they move away from the balcony, closer to the crowds, and people part around them easily to make room. The chancellor is a fair bit taller than her; she nearly has to tilt her head back to meet him in the eye. 

“I must apologize,” Ardyn says as they move about. “I’m sure you’re rather eager to set off to Altissia, but you understand that we require you here for a just a while longer yet.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Luna says. Her grip tightens on him. “’A symbol of the peace’, I believe you’ve called it.”

“Ah, you may be a symbol, but you’re still a woman,” Ardyn says. Luna really does try to ignore the tone in which he says that. “Surely you must be eager to be off to your wedding, symbolic though it may be?” 

She looks over his shoulder, avoiding eye contact, and he seems to take that for an answer. The pace of the music slows a bit; it feels like the musicians are underwater, their instruments a background noise to the hum of sound around them. Ardyn and Luna weave throughout the other dancers, a careful and practiced waltz. Ardyn twists her around.

“I suppose it’s not _all_ so bad,” he says. “You do seem rather fond of his highness, after all. Your brother never fails to stop grimacing about it.”

“Prince Noctis is...a nice young man,” Luna settles on. It feels weird to be discussing her feelings with the imperial chancellor. It’s strange – she may be perceptive to other’s emotions, but he’s a difficult one for her to read. Ardyn snorts; she feels the hand at her waist tighten ever so slightly.

“I’m sure you two will make an absolutely _lovely_ picture together once you’re wed,” he says, with an edge to his voice that says it won’t be a pleasant picture at all. 

Luna hadn’t noticed when the song shifted over; the people around them have all come to a pause, hands together to applaud the band. She moves to detach herself from Ardyn to do the same, but his hands on her tighten.

“Lunafreya,” He says, and she looks around again; the people aren’t applauding, but frozen in place, hands moving so slowly they may as well have stopped. The hum of conversation she’d heard isn’t conversation at all; it’s a low hissing in her own ears, and it only grows louder. Ardyn’s hand releases hers, and comes up to her cheek. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear; the gesture is too-tender, too close for comfort. She reaches to push his hand away, but freezes, his hand against her cheek and her own cupping it. The humming noise grows to a peak, and she almost feels the way she does during a healing, too-cold and unsteady. The chancellor’s face is grim, an emotion she can’t name worming its way into his features.

“Are you quite all right?”

And just like that, his hand has dropped away, and the humming morphs back into the voices of the crowd, like the moment had not passed at all. His voice is concerned; “Would you like to sit down?”

His tone of voice doesn’t quite reach his expression. He looks...almost smug.

Luna looks around her, brow furrowed; the music has resumed, and people disperse around them. “No, I...I’m quite all right, thank you.”

He lets go of her, and bows deeply. 

“Thank you for this...silly indulgence,” he says, and she isn’t sure what she means by that. “I’m afraid I must be taking my leave.”

He straightens up, adjusting the hat on his head. He steals another glass off a different waiter, and raises it to her.

“Give Prince Noctis my regards, yes?”

He disappears into the crowd. 

She looks down at her hands; they’re still frozen  cold from his touch , and she hears the humming noise again, only for a moment, as she spreads out her hands. It passes, and she’s left standing alone once again.


End file.
